


The Room

by WellDoneBeca



Series: Mrs Captain [28]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avenger reader - Freeform, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Paparazzi, Parent Steve, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenting is had, Steve is a good dad, Team as Family, Teenagers, The Avengers are famous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 11:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: Years ago, Steve wished he knew having two kids with such different ages in the same room could cause such a friction.A teen and a 6-year-old in the same room? What could possibly go wrong?





	The Room

**Author's Note:**

> Sebastian is 13, Stevie is 6 and Sarah is a baby.

You moved your fingers over Steve’s forehead and nose, caressing his skin slowly, and he smiled. Being so close to him, you could see every detail of his face, from the very clear freckled over his nose to the wrinkles that had started to form on his skin.

Things were calm in your family. Your father was planning his wedding after a long-ass engagement to Pepper, the kids were great and even with all your missions and the Avengers, you were staying more at home than ever before and spending quality time with them. Your daughter was babbling and could put two words – sometimes even three – if she wanted something or if you asked her questioned; Sebastian had found an interest in mechanics and Stevie would start at first grade in the next morning – officially joining school out of the Avengers’ facilities.

You giggled when your husband ran his finger on your side, tickling you,

“I love those calm nights,” you muttered. “Remember the first time I stayed in?”

You smiled.

“How could I forget? We got to the bed before the sun was up and only got up for food and bathroom breaks. You were the first guy who never pushed me to have sex when it wasn’t in my mind. We just…”

“Lied down,” he took your hands into his and moved it to his lips. “Kissed and stayed in, just like this.”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“And I knew I was in for a long ride.”

He got closer to you, kissing the tip of your nose before moving his soft lips to yours and…

“Get out!” the scream broke through the air, making the two of you sit up quickly, realising what was going on.

“Oh God,” you sighed. “Why did I say anything?”

Steve shook his head and you both stood up, letting up a sigh when the baby cry echoed through the system.

“I’ll go get Sarah,” you decided. “You take care of the boys,”

Steve walked barefoot to the room across yours and wasn’t surprised when you found your 6-year-old clearly angry.

“Dad!” Stevia whinest. “Sebastian is in the bathroom since forever and he said I can’t call you but I gotta call you and mum and tall when I’m sick or someone is sick, and I think he is sick cause he is there forever!” he repeatedly put his foot down, to the point Steve new anyone downstairs knew something was happening in their room.

This happened a lot, honestly. You didn’t know earlier, but having two kids with such different ages in the same room cause a lot of friction. Sebastian and Stevie had very different bedtimes and wake-up times, and while it had worked for a while, it didn’t anymore.

“It’s okay, son,” he touched his back. “I’m gonna talk to your brother. Go back to bed, okay? We’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

Stevie nodded, and his father kissed him on his forehead before knocking on the bathroom door.

“Seb, is everything okay?’

There was a long silence inside for a moment, but he could hear a sigh on the other side after a while.

“Yeah, dad.”

“Do you need to talk?”

More silence.

“I don’t know...”

“Do you  _want_ to?”

Steve was scared when he realised Sebastian was getting into puberty soon, not because of fear or cause he didn’t want to deal with all of the hormonal change and drama he knew came with it, but because he didn’t know a single thing about teens.

“Yeah.”

He waited, and Sebastian opened the door a few seconds after, moving so he could get in.

“Well?” Steve closed the door after himself.

In response, the boy crossed his arms.

“I got a pimple,” he muttered. “And… Stuff.”

“Stuff?” Steve frowned.

As parents, you were always sure to show your kids they could talk to you about anything in the world, and that included embarrassing stuff.

“Hair,” he muttered. “On my face. And none of my friends do.”

Of course, the friends.

Sebastian was, theoretically, 13, but his age and birthday were presumed dates. His archives were lost long years ago before you adopted him. He could be anywhere from 12 to 15 and his friends were most definitely the age they believed they were.

“Alright, let me look,” Steve walked to him and ran his eyes over his face as the boy pointed to the problems he had related.

Said pimple was right on his cheek and said facial hair was just a group of five hair strands each on a corner of his lips.

“Okay, let me tell you what we can do,” the father decided. “We can take your mother’s pimple cream and take care of this, and either tweeze those hairs out or shave them. Or just leave them there. It’s your call.”

His son hesitated.

“What happens if we tweeze them out?”

“They won’t grow back for at least some days.”

He finally nodded, and Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright. Come on, we have a big light in my bathroom, you can see what we’re going.”

When they walked past Steven, he was already asleep.

“Sit down,” his father instructed, turning on the lights around the mirror and typing something on the panel. The wall opened just seconds later with the cream and a face wash.

“Alright, pull your hair back,” he pointed. “Wash your face with this, we can get your own tomorrow.”

His son complied, following Steve’s instructions closely. He showed him how to properly wash his face and put on the cream just where the pimple was, and Sebastian held a cool and brave face while his father tweezed out the few hairs on his face.

“Alright, I’m done,” the former captain smiled.

The boy opened a smiled as well, but it died less than a minute later.

“Dad…” he cleared his throat. “Can I… Sleep in the guest room?

That took Steve by surprise.

“The guests' room?” he frowned. “Son, we don’t really have one.”

For practical reasons, you all lived in the compound. If you needed to be called to an emergency mission and/or the kids needed protection, you were in the right place. Your whole family was there as well – the kids’ godparents, your father and Pepper and the whole team – and they were also very helpful. The compound had no guest room.

“What about any other room?” he insisted.

“Why?”

“I want my own room,” he finally said. “I don’t want to sleep in the same room as Stevie any more.

* * *

“It was bound to happen,” you said, making a slow curve, and sighed in bother. “He is 13. Stevie is 6. We couldn’t keep them together forever, right?”

Steve didn’t answer and you turned to him.

“Well?”

“I want him to go back to being a kid too,” your husband voiced. “But I don’t think it is not that possible.”

“I know, right? He’s growing too fast. Both of them are,” you parked the car. “He’ll leave for college in five years!”

“Don’t remind me of that,” your husband opened the car’s door. “Let’s just focus on the room for now.

He left, and you made a funny face to your daughter on the back seat.

“I won’t need to worry about you growing up too fast, will I?” you muttered, and your girl just kept drooling on her you. “That’s what I thought.”

You sang to the radio patiently until the boys came to the car.

“Mama!” Stevie exclaimed happily when he realised you were there.

“Hello, baby” you smiled at him.

“I thought you would be working?”

“Not today,” you kissed Sebastian’s cheek when he moved closer to you. “Today, we’re going out to a very important thing.”

They turned their eyes to you, filled with curiosity, and your husband gave you a knowing look.

“We are going shopping,” he finally said it. “Because we need to put Sebastian’s new room together.”

It took a moment for your oldest to process what that meant, and when he let out an exclamation, you chuckled.

“And because we haven’t updated the other room since Stevie was born, we’re getting it new stuff too.”

Your middle child cheered happily and soon the car became a cluster of loud celebration.

You split up when you got to the store, with Steve going with Sebastian and you with the two youngest, pushing Sarah in a strolled and smiling when your boy ran right to the Avengers’ area of the store.

“Can I have a bed with you, dad and Grandpa on it?”

And that’s how your afternoon went, building a fully Avengers’ themed room and with your son pointing and pointing at stuff. You’d already ordered blue paint for the walls and new sheets with your phone, seeing how Steve had done the same for Sev’s room, which was apparently Star Wars themed.

Sin the end of the trip, the kids just looked beyond tired, but happy, and you’d picked up some stuff for Sarah’s room as well. You got in the car and, while driving away, a movement caught your eye.

“Steve...” you called.

“I saw it too,” he said in a low voice. “Friday.”

“I’m already scanning the surroundings, Mr Rogers.”

“Set a pre-warning,” you activated the autopilot and isolated the kids from any noise as they slept peacefully.

“Four men encountered, sir,” the system finally said. “No weapons found.”

You frowned.

“No weapons?”

“No, ma’am. But they seem to be carrying cameras.”

Your posture changed from defensive to annoyed. You had managed to keep the kids in secret for years even after your father announced Stevie was born. During your late teenage years and early adult life, the paparazzi had tormented you more than you’d ever wanted. You didn’t mind having them following you now, but your kids was a completely different story.

“Take us home,” you sighed. “Please.”

The rooms were already put together when you arrived at home, and after dinner the kids were already set in their new beds, almost shining in happiness with the fact that they didn’t need to share things any more. Even Stevie – who was a bit hurt by the fact his brother wanted his own space – was excited with his new ‘big boy’ space.

“Good night, mama,” your son said as you walked to the door.

“Good night, Stevie.”

“No, mama,” he said suddenly. “I’m not Stevie anymore. I’m SJ.”

You stopped, frowning.

“Care to explain?”

Your boy yawned, and you leant on the door frame.

“Harry said it’s cooler than Stevie.”

“And who is Harry?”

“My new friend.”

You chuckled, deciding not to question him more.

“Okay, then. Sleep tight, honey.”

You turned off his light and closed the door, walking past Sebastian’s room, knocking on the half closed door.

“Come on in?”

You just put your head inside, smiling as you saw your son reading a book.

“Don’t forget, all lights are out by 9,” you reminded him. “You got… One hour and a half to finish that.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Kiss you later,” you promised.

“Kiss you later too.”

You left, walking to your room and smiling when you saw Steve spread on the bed.

“Sarah is out,” he announced. “Stevie too,” you saw on the bed. “Well, apparently he is SJ now. Someone named Harry said it was cooler.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Kids.”

You walked to him with a sly smirk, straddling his lap and spreading kisses on his skin.

“Steve...” you whispered.

“Yes?”

In response, you pulled your top out, taking his face in your hands and biting his lower lip.

“We have 90 minutes before any kid demands our attention,” you reminded him. “Don’t you want to enjoy it?”

“Maybe,” he moved his hands to your waist. “And how do you want to enjoy this time, Mrs Rogers?”

“I have some ideas,” you smirked.

He moved his hands up your back, ready to unclasp your bra when you heard Friday's voice echoing through the system.

“Excuse me, Captain and Mrs Rogers. I believe a subject has surfaced and deserves your attention.”

You turned to your wall, where the system had already projected what she wanted to show you. An article from a gossip magazine and website.

“Oh Gosh,” you covered your face, realising what it was about. “Steve… Our peace is definitely over.”


End file.
